


Straight To Video

by wonder_boy



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, Corruption, Hurt No Comfort, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Past Relationship(s), Threats of Violence, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27110359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonder_boy/pseuds/wonder_boy
Summary: Gil swallows the bile back at the base of his throat. “Get Bright in here.”-For Whumptober Day 17: Blackmail
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright & Dani Powell, Malcolm Bright & JT Tarmel
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	Straight To Video

**Author's Note:**

> She's a little late but here nonetheless! Please enjoy!

Admittedly, it’s a little early for Gil to be walking the halls of the precinct so early in the morning. He’s been consumed by a case that seemed to be getting nowhere, a dozen witnesses suddenly changing their statements, and barren evidence that’s enough for an arrest but not a conviction.

The break room is quiet this morning with no one in it but him, silently pouring himself a cup of cheap black coffee in hopes that it will give him the boost he needs to start his day. Two sugars later, he goes back into his office.

He churns through paperwork and reports like clockwork, letting the time pass him by as the sun begins to rise over Manhattan and the precinct begins to swell with activity.

After what feels like hours going through endless reports, Gil switches gears and starts to answer a few emails. Complaints, follow-ups, sign offs, and more reports he needs to go through. He opens up his junk folder for a quick skim through, deleting unnecessary emails and holiday invites.

Just as he’s about to close the folder back, his eyes catch a glimpse of a subject line that makes his heart jump in his chest.

_URGENT: Matters Concerning Malcolm Bright_

A frown crosses his face as he hovers over the email, unsure of what to do. Sure, only a handful of people know that Malcolm works under him in his precinct and the kid isn’t all that popular with the other officers but they know who he is.

Gil runs the gambit of who would want to send an email instead of filing a complaint, straight to his work email no doubt. The sender has nothing else attached to their profile but a name and an address. No picture or signature.

It could be a prank, a cruel joke to scare him because everyone knows how much he cares for Malcolm. They know he’ll run down every cop in New York and every criminal to get to him, to protect him in spite of keeping it professional.

That’s his son. To hell if someone spoke ill about him.

He chews on his lip some before he opens the email. The screen blinds him as the contents are stark – there’s only two attachments followed by a short message and a phone number.

An audio file and a picture.

_When you’re done, call this number._

It’s definitely a threat of some sort. No one leaves cryptic messages like this without some end goal. Still, he’s human, and he can’t deny that he’s curious. If it’s just some prank then he can delete it and move on with his day.

The clicker hovers over the audio file for a moment, and the second he’s about to open it, there’s a sharp knock at his door that makes him jump.

Gil clears his throat. “Come in.”

The door swings open to reveal JT followed by Dani with her brows knitted in confusion. “Bright’s already here?” she asks, looking back at the bullpen.

Gil’s eyebrows raise, then falter to match hers. “He never came into my office.”

Dani hums in response but leaves it at that.

JT closes the door and picks up the conversation. “I had some thoughts about Reyes and our victim. You said it’s not a familial connection but I still think there's something there.”

“Yeah just,” Gil’s eyes flicker back to his screen. “Just give me a second. I’m looking over something.”

“What is it?” JT asks, debating if that means they should leave.

Gil shakes his head as his clicker hovers over the file. “It's nothing. Probably just some idiot trying to scare me. It _is_ October after all.”

Dani nods her head to that. But it piques her interest. “What’s on it?”

He takes a second to decide if he wants to tell them about the email. There’s no harm if it’s just a prank to scare him, something to give him a scare and throw off his morning. It doesn’t take much to let it slip. “It’s an email about Bright,” he sighs. “Says it’s urgent.”

The room falls silent, and JT and Dani give each other a look. They have their own silent conversation to decide what they should do next. Thankfully, great minds think alike, and they quickly come to the same conclusion.

“We can leave,” Dani throws her hand to the door. JT practically has his foot out the door.

Gil just waves them off. “It’s fine. It’s probably just a prank.” He would be lying if he said he’s not trying to convince himself this is all it is. A harmless prank, right? What could possibly go wrong?

“It’s just an audio file. Got a phone number attached to it.”

JT frowns. “What’s on the file?”

Gil sighs. “I don’t know.”

“Let’s hear it,” Dani suggests, shrugging. “If it’s about Bright, then I’m sure it’s nothing.” Gil debates it over some more, still a bit unsure. “Though,” she starts, “I feel kind of bad not telling him about it.”

“Why?” JT asks. “There’s no point in telling him if it’s just nothing, right?”

She bobs her head to the side, not really disagreeing with him.

“I’ll just play it,” Gil says as he sits up straighter in his chair. It’s just a file. It’s clearly not important if it was in his junk mail. He happened to find it on a whim.

Though, he’s still a bit nervous.

Settling his nerves, Gil stops stalling and clicks on the file. It opens up on a separate window with a black background, and it's only thirty seven seconds long. When it pops up, he can’t hear anything.

Gil frowns. There isn’t any sound coming through the speakers as the clip plays on his screen, so he starts to mess with the volume on his computer. He scans his icon on the bottom and realizes that he has the volume turned all the way down – a habit he forgot about. He moves the cursor to play the video from the beginning, pauses it, then turns the volume up to a good medium.

Gil presses play. JT and Dani listen with anticipation.

The clip starts off with faint rustling like someone’s trying to get a hold on their phone. Gil wonders if this is their poor attempt to try and catch Malcolm saying something incriminating on the record. All three detectives share the same frown as they listen harder, waiting for something to happen.

Then the rustling turns to hushed voices. It’s a male voice that’s getting a grip on the phone, because he’s clearly struggling to do something.

At least, that’s what it appears to be.

The phone stops moving. The rustling ends, and the hushed voices get louder.

_“What are you–?”_

That’s _definitely_ Malcolm.

 _“It’s fine,”_ the other man whispers.

The line goes quiet, saved for their ragged breathing, and it slowly becomes apparent to the detectives what’s happening in this recording.

Dani’s mouth opens to say something, but she’s cut off by the _very_ audible sound of a passionate kiss.

Their eyebrows raise to the ceiling and both JT and Dani shoot Gil a look mixed with concern and urgency when it dawns on them that this is private recording that’s not meant to be shared.

Well – it’s not so private now is it?

There’s still twenty seconds left of the clip. Still taken aback by the clip being played out, Gil scrambles to say something but he’s blanking completely.

Unfortunately, his mind is made up for him.

To everyone’s horror, a breathless moan escapes Malcolm’s lips.

The room goes stiff.

His moaning becomes increasingly louder.

The volume’s low enough so no one outside of his office can hear it past the walls, but it shocks and startles them to react like they’ve been caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing.

_“Ah – please–!”_

Everyone’s brows shoot up to the ceiling.

_“Please don’t stop.”_

Gil’s face immediately flushes and he nearly breaks the mouse trying to pause the video. He’s heard enough.

Dani stares at the floor with wide eyes and pursed lips while JT’s head is down against his chest and a blank expression too neutral for Gil to put a name to.

Gil doesn’t know what to think. Or say, for that matter.

He sheepishly glances over at the photo attached to the email. It burns a hole in the screen as it lingers untouched, unseen, _extremely_ illegal, but there nonetheless. Gil can only imagine what kind of image is under the file name waiting to be viewed by him.

He quickly decides he’s going to spare not only Malcolm, but also himself the consequences of seeing his son in such a compromising position.

He deserves to know about this. Gil’s going to drive himself crazy if he doesn’t tell him, not to mention the rest of the team walking around, knowing something very intimate about their profiler. Not to mention that someone is trying to tarnish Bright’s name.

Gil swallows the bile back at the base of his throat. “Get Bright in here.”

Not wanting to stay in the office any longer, JT is the first to hop up from his chair and ditch the two of them to find Malcolm while Gil and Dani sit in uncomfortable silence.

The silence stretches for another long, agonizing couple of minutes. Dread settles in the room like a storm beginning to brew in the distance, promising a downpour that won’t stop once the first drop seeps into the ground.

Dani feels like she’s been caught in the middle of something she shouldn’t. This could’ve been between Gil and Malcolm if they just left it alone for Gil to figure out on his own, but instead, they had to get involved.

The door clicks, and behind it sprouts a very concerned Bright and a very quiet JT.

Malcolm surveys the suffocating tension in the room. “What’s going on?”

He looks to Dani first, but she doesn’t lift her head to look at him. Then he stares up at JT who can’t seem to look him in the eye. He switches over to Gil who’s hunched over his desk with his fingers intertwined together over his mouth and a frown to match. “Gil?”

When no one moves, JT shuts the door behind him and locks it.

“Guys. What the hell is going on?”

“Just show him,” Dani mumbles from her chair. “He’s already in here.”

Malcolm’s frown deepens as he stares at Gil’s troubled figure. “Show me what?”

Realizing that he’s put himself in a corner, Gil sits back up in his chair and runs a hand through his goatee, picking his words very carefully. Then, he rests his elbows on his desk.

“I got an email from someone this morning...about you.” Malcolm’s eyebrows raise, but he stays quiet so he can listen. “It has an audio file and a photo attached to it, along with a weird message and a phone number. At first, I thought it was an incident report or some sort of prank, but…” Gil heavily sighs. “It’s not.”

“Play it,” Malcolm demands, and everyone shoots him a look that says otherwise. “It concerns me and it’s clearly important, so let’s hear it.”

The team send each other desperate looks to confirm if this is okay to do, eyeing Gil as a last resort in hopes of changing Malcolm’s mind even though they all know that it’s no use at this point.

Gil takes one last look at Malcolm’s determined expression before he cringes inwardly and places his hand on the mouse. Regretfully, Gil presses play, and the tape starts from the beginning.

As the rustling begins, Malcolm’s arms fold with his hand under his chin as he listens carefully, picking apart every piece of information that comes through the speakers.

Gil feels like he’s watching a train wreck happen in slow motion. The worst part about it is that he’s allowing it to happen in the first place.

All too soon, the rustling stops and a conversation too quiet to hear echoes in the background. Recognizing his own voice isn’t hard, but he’s still trying to put together what’s happening, who he’s with, and when this could’ve possibly taken place.

Then he hears the unexpected. His eyes grow wide, and his world comes crashing down at his feet.

He’s kissing someone.

The profile comes to a screeching halt.

Shock settles in his stomach and churns like he’s been dosed and he can’t see straight.

The kiss becomes heated very quickly and before he can even think of something to say, he hears himself moan through the speakers.

His heart stops, but the clip keeps going.

Malcolm stands in the middle of the room absolutely _mortified_.

The moans become increasingly louder and more obscene until he can’t take it anymore and his body begins to tremble with unshakable fear.

“Stop it.”

Barely a whisper.

“I said stop it!”

Gil jumps out of his skin and immediately stops the clip.

Suddenly, he can’t breathe. Malcolm can’t even begin to process what’s happening – what’s happened – and put a name to everything he’s feeling, coursing through his veins in ripples he can’t stop.

The burning _shame_. Exposed. Disgustingly intimate. Suffocating under the spotlight.

He feels gross, dirty, in need of a shower. Once it all comes to the forefront, his cheeks flush so hot and his ears redden at the tips when it finally sinks in. He knows what’s happening, who he’s with, and he knows exactly where it’s taking place. He can't even muster a pinch of false confidence to look his team in the eye.

He’s _embarrassed_.

This guy sent this to Gil on purpose. He did this _on purpose_. One night, the _one_ time he puts himself out there after all of these years, a fruitless, casual one-night stand becomes the most scandalous thing like he’s plastered all over page six. And then–

Wait.

_Oh god._

His head snaps up and his eyes anxiously search the team’s expressions.

They _know_.

_No. Oh god, oh god, oh god–_

They weren’t supposed to know – he’s never told them.

Hell, _Gil_ doesn't even know that he’s–

Panic brings him back to life and shocks his system, breaking him out of his downward spiral as he comes back up for air only to be swept under the tide again.

He can’t be here.

He can’t _exist_ here.

Running into traffic is too messy. Somehow, the idea of jumping off the nearest building seems very appealing and very fitting. Maybe he can take that cup of tea his father keeps offering and see how much ketamine it will take to paralyze him. Trap himself in his own mind so he doesn’t have to deal with everything that’s going on outside in the world.

“I have to go,” he chokes out, and quickly moves past JT and makes a beeline for the bullpen.

Gil shoots up from his desk, afraid of where he might try to run off to. “Bright, wait–!”

The office phone blares through the chaos. Everyone stops moving. Malcolm’s grip on the handle loosens and his back is still towards the team, using this distraction to shield himself and hide as much as he can.

Gil makes a motion to JT to watch over Malcolm while he goes to answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“Did you get my little gift?”

Gil’s entire body goes stiff. His initial shock quickly melts into stifling anger, both JT and Dani noticing the sharp change in his body. “Who is this?” he grits through his teeth. “What do you want?”

It’s _him_.

Gil’s tone sends a shiver down Malcolm’s spine, but he’s still too anxious to turn around. He’s not sure if he can face his team again.

“It took you a while to play the clip. Why were you so nervous, Lieutenant?”

The man on the line chuckles at the silence. “Did you get a chance to look at the photo yet? I know the angle isn’t the best but I’m sure you’ve got an active imagination, right Lieutenant?”

Taunting, a childish tactic. It’s immature and juvenile, but it gets under Gil’s skin like a rash he can’t scratch when he knows that he’s using Malcolm as blackmail to reach some sick and twisted end goal.

Then again, he knows he needs to save what’s left of Malcolm’s pride and dignity. He’ll be damned if he lets some creep take advantage of him, especially at his weakest moment. Not when Gil has all of the resources to put this guy away.

Begrudgingly, Gil submits for the moment. “What are your terms?”

It elicits an arrogant chuckle from the man on the other line.

“I’m a simple man, Lieutenant. I want you to release my brother. Edmond Riggs, or, The Sentinel, as you like to call him on TV. I want him out. Fail to comply, and I throw this clip up on the big screen for everyone else to see. Not to mention, that lovely little photo _really_ sets the mood.”

Seeing the color drain from Gil’s face has Dani and JT up in stance, ready to comb through the precinct if they’re told to. They can’t hear what the man’s telling Gil, but using context, they can tell it’s not looking good for their team. For Malcolm.

“Wouldn’t want that getting loose, now, do we?”

Gil grits his teeth. “You know I can’t do that,” he spits out, scratching his brain for another way out. There’s no way in hell that email’s going to leak. He glances over at Malcolm’s slightly shaking frame by the door and his heart breaks, his resolve tightens, and he grips the phone even harder. “I won’t.”

“Oh, but you will. You’re the only one with that kind of power around here. Unless,” the man drawls on, his grin obvious behind the phone. “I’m sure your Commissioner can squeeze in a last minute appointment?”

Gil’s anger surges, chest tightening. “Don’t you even fucking _think_ –”

“You’ve got one hour,” the man interrupts. “Bring me my brother, and we won’t have any problems. Simple as that. If you bring your thugs with you, the link goes live, and everyone at the one-six will know what Arroyo’s boy sounds like on a good night.”

For a brief second, there’s silence on the other line. Then, the sound of the phone adjusting follows a short laugh.

“Oh, and tell Malcolm I said no hard feelings. He’s the best I’ve had in a _long_ time,” he cackles, choking on a sputtering laugh, louder than the first. “Who knew getting into the NYPD’s pants was this easy?”

The phone clicks, disconnecting before Gil can get a word out.

Silence engulfs the room again. No one dares to speak in fear of tipping the sensitive scale hovering over their heads. Even with his back towards the team, no one dares to look in Malcolm’s direction.

“He called us as soon as Bright tried to leave,” Dani notes, then she’s up out of her chair in an instant and marches toward JT. “He’s gotta be in the precinct, or at least he’s watching us nearby. You can only see so much through the windows.”

JT nods and shoots a look to Gil, feeling a similar sense of urgency overtake him. “We can track him down, see who came in and out of the precinct in the last hour.” He peers through the blinds into the sea of wavering blue searching for an outlier. “We’re being watched.”

They’re losing time the longer they stand there. Feeling their window starting to close, Gil doubles down on a plan.

He nods. “JT, go run down tech, see what they can get through this call and the cams. I want them to trace this email address as well.”

JT takes his orders and immediately exits the room.

Dani watches JT leave the room and chews on her bottom lip, hesitating on saying something. “Well, Bright slept with him, so he must have some information on him, right?” Dani adds, attempting to make it less awkward. The reminder isn’t helping.

“His brother’s name is Edmond Riggs, so we’ll start there.” Gil dips his head and tries to look over Malcolm’s shoulder for any recognition. “Is there anything else you can give us on this guy? A phone number, maybe an address?”

They both look to Malcolm to add on. Only, he looks _so_ defeated, and their stomachs drop as they draw their own conclusions. Arms hanging by his sides with his chin to his chest, staring at the ground in horror.

“I didn’t even get his name.”

Both Dani and Gil fall silent.

He’s pathetic, _so_ pathetic.

Sloppy.

How could he be so careless?

“I have to go,” he mutters. “I can’t be here.”

He yanks the door open before anyone has time to object and heads for the front door.

He runs. He keeps running until his lungs give out, and even then, he keeps going, pushing himself towards his limits until his tears fly away with the wind against his face.

Gil has no choice. He has to let that man go. He knows it, Gil knows it, everyone knows it. How else can he work himself out of this?

God, he’s so stupid. He should’ve been more careful, he should’ve paid more attention instead of saying yes to the first person that offered to buy him a drink.

 _Damn it!_ he curses to himself.

Used.

Taken advantage of.

Bait for a crime Gil has no choice but to submit to. Somehow, he’s put Gil in a tough situation he can’t get out of, and it’s all his fault for being so careless and so gullible and so damn _lonely_.

He’s weak, impulsive.

Malcolm runs because it’s the only thing he’s good at doing.

His legs carry him down several blocks away from the precinct, through the crowds of strangers who give him weird looks, through traffic but the sound of blaring horns are merely static, and through the shouts of everyone he accidentally runs into.

He blinks, and he’s in front of his loft.

He blinks, and he’s standing under scalding hot water that leaves his skin puffy and irritated.

He blinks, and he’s curled up under the sheets _praying_ for sleep to come, silently hoping that he’ll never be able to wake up ever again.

The moment from that night keeps replaying over and over in his head: how good it felt to finally have someone, how good it felt to be reminded that he’s everything and more, that he’s desirable and worthy.

He thinks about how good it felt when he was told how beautiful he was under the night sky by the pier, how he didn’t believe it at first until the night progressed into something more intimate than he’s had in _months_.

Now it’s all come crashing down.

He’s been outed.

Gil’s hands are tied.

His team is disgusted with him.

And there’s no way he can show his face to work.

Malcolm curls himself into a tight ball under the covers until it hurts and his muscles cramp, squeezing his eyes shut as the shock rolls off into exhaustion. If dying of embarrassment isn’t possible, then he’ll just make himself smaller and smaller until he disappears into nothing but a shell of himself.

For once in his life, he patiently waits for the night terrors to take their hold.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come scream at me on tumblr @wonder-boy. Thanks for reading!


End file.
